Midnight's Promise
by CrimsonRegret478
Summary: What if Antonio and Lovino never had that argument? What if Antonio had never died? What if Lovino had everything he could ever want? True love. Parents. An outstanding career. Is it truly worth losing his son over? Lovino is now faced with the ultimate decision between his son and the love of his life. Will he choose right? Spin-off to MD
1. Chapter 1

**STOP. DO NOT GO ANY FURTHER BEFORE READING THIS PLEASE: If you have not read Midnight Dancers AND Midnight's Hymn before this (and not particularly in that order), it is STRONGLY recommended that you do otherwise you will NOT have the slightest idea what is going on. Please be sure to read both stories if you are interested in this one.**

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**Any-who, to those who HAVE read both stories, please continue. I hope you enjoy this one! This is a spin-off story of Midnight Dancers that happens between MD and Midnight's Kiss. I happened to come up with this one day while sitting at home writing another story (which will be written by both turtle001 and I) so I just HAD to release this. I will be releasing the collaborative story soon, by the way. I just gotta work out some kinks and make sure it's nothing short of perfect.**

**Please let me know if I should continue this story! It would mean a great deal to me!**

**Updates will be slow because of school and whatnot.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNINGS: Language**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Antonio slid inside the bedroom, padding across the room softly, eyeing the sleeping figure with careful emerald eyes that sparkled in the winter morning sun bursting through the window. He crept up to the bed, crouching down, and ready to pounce.

"The mighty hunter has cornered his prey…" he whispered with a smirk.

Springing into action—like a lion tackling a gazelle—he jumped into the air, landing on the slumbering Italian. The man in bed let out a small _"oof!" _in surprise and groaned at the sudden awakening.

"Good morning, Papa!" Antonio grinned brightly, sitting atop his father's stirring form.

Lovino couldn't help that small smile playing at his lips, chuckling at his son. "Good morning, Toni."

"What're we gonna do today, Papa? Are we gonna go to the park? Are we gonna go see Uncle Feli and Uncle Ludwig and Sienna?" Antonio rambled on and on, speaking at a thousand miles an hour.

"Whoa, slow down there, whirlwind. It's still early. Let's get something to eat before we plan out our day. Remember Alfred and Arthur? They're in town for Sienna's birthday this week so we might see them. Go get dressed and I'll start making breakfast," Lovino mussed Antonio's head of thick curls.

"I'll be back before you can even blink!" the boy scrambled out of bed and hurried out of the room to his own, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Lovino sighed in amusement and rolled out of bed, heading downstairs to the kitchen after dressing himself for the day. Antonio soon returned to the room his father once occupied, blinking in confusion upon seeing it was vacant.

"Papa?" he looked around. "Oh! He must be downstairs!"

The boy turned heel but halted mid-step when a small trill from behind him resounded, causing him to face the room again. His eyes immediately darted to Lovino's cellphone resting on the nightstand which continued to shrill. Antonio grabbed it, staring at the unfamiliar number.

Should he answer it?

Maybe this one time wouldn't hurt…

"Hello?" he put it to his ear.

"_H-Hello?" _the person on the other end was clearly startled by hearing such a young voice. _"Um, who am I speaking to?"_

"My name is Antonio. Who are you, Miss?" the four-year-old answered innocently.

"_Oh Antonio!" _the woman laughed lightly. _"This is your dad's boss. It's been quite a while since I last saw you! How old are you now? Five? Six?_

"Nope! I'm four and a half! My birthday is February 12th!" the boy beamed, proud at himself for remembering such an important fact of his life.

"_Well happy birthday to you! You're getting to be a big boy, aren't you?"_

"Yup! Papa says I've grown taller!"

"_That's just fantastic! Pretty soon, you'll be really tall! So Antonio, speaking of your father, is he around? It is very important that I talk to him."_

"He's in the kitchen making breakfast. We're going to do all kinds of fun stuff today like go to the park and eat ice cream!" Antonio explained, toddling down the stairs.

"_That sounds just splendid," _the woman smiled from the other end of the line. _"Do you mind if I talk to him for a little while?"_

"Sure!" Antonio nodded.

"Toni, who are you talking to?" Lovino called from the kitchen.

"It's your boss, Papa! She says it's very important that she talks to you. What're you gonna talk about?" Antonio handed the phone over to his father.

"Uh, boring grown-up stuff. Listen, why don't you go watch TV until I get off the phone? This'll only take a second," Lovino said.

"Okay!" the boy ran off to the other room and Lovino waited to hear the sounds of cartoons before returning to the conversation. "Sorry about that. He's really excited about today."

"_He's such a sweetheart, Lovino. If only my kids acted like that," _the woman chuckled.

"He has his moments," Lovino continued bustling about the kitchen. "So you said it's important that you talk to me? What's going on?"

"_Well, there's a gentleman here that would like to speak to you about your upcoming novel that's ready to be released. He absolutely loved the previous one and would like to meet you personally—maybe even get your book sold on a wider scale. This could take a few hours at the least."_

"But I thought you said nothing was going on today. Antonio and I made plans already," Lovino didn't like where this was going in the slightest.

"_Plans go astray sometimes, Lovino. It's just the way the world works. Listen: if you do this, you'll be able to further provide for yourselves—more so, your son. This'll only benefit you both. The cost of one measly day cannot possibly compare to what'll be in store for you in the future. Sacrifices must be made."_

"One day if you don't count the other hundreds of other days I've had to miss because something came up. I can't keep doing this to him. I can't keep letting him down," Lovino made sure to speak in hushed tones so as not to alarm his son in the next room.

"_Let me put it to you this way: if you don't come, your novel won't be put in stores which mean a cut in your salary. I don't want to do that but this just the publicity our company needs. I'll expect you here within the hour, Lovino. Don't let me down."_

_Click._

Lovino hung up and set the phone on the counter, attempting to quell the temper he had learned to control over the years. That manipulative, selfish, pompous wench! Lovino had half a mind not to show up and spend the day with Antonio (as promised) but the other half was telling him to go and get it over with. If it benefitted Antonio then that was all the reason he should need, right?

Nonetheless, he didn't want to be the absent father or in this case, the absent _parent._

Sighing at his made decision, Lovino dialed a different number this time, waiting impatiently for the other person to pick up.

"_Hello?"_

"Arthur? Sorry to call on such short notice."

"_It's fine. Is something the matter? You don't sound well."_

"You're right, I'm not. Listen, I have some exigent business to take care of back at the office and I'll be gone most of the day. Do you think you or Alfred could do me a huge favor and watch Antonio for a while? Feliciano and Ludwig are busy so I can't ask them. I understand if you can't. This isn't exactly what you'd look forward to when on vacation."

"_It's no trouble at all. I'm sure Alfred would be delighted to. He's been asking about the little guy and Sienna since we got here. He'll be over shortly."_

"Thanks."

The conversation ended on that note and Lovino finished making breakfast for the two of them while trying to corral his words. How was he going to explain this to Antonio? He hated seeing the bright fire in the boy's eyes diminish to a dull flame whenever he was told the Italian had to go in to work. He hated seeing that smile fade into a frown or his tiny shoulders slump.

He hated that woman. He swore she did this on purpose.

"Antonio, breakfast is ready," Lovino called, setting the two plates on the table.

The boy soon made an appearance, sliding easily into the chair and sitting on his knees so he would be the appropriate height to eat. Antonio began scarfing down his food and Lovino had to tell him more than once to slow down and that he'll get a stomachache if he ate too fast.

"How come you're not eating, Papa?" Antonio swallowed his mouthful of breakfast, glancing between his father and the nearly untouched plate.

"Oh," Lovino said, seeming to have forgotten it was even there. "I'm just not that hungry anymore."

"But you need to eat so you can get big and strong!" Antonio gave the reason Lovino told him because the boy refused to eat his vegetables at times.

"Sorry, son, but I'm already big and strong," Lovino chuckled, placing his hand atop Antonio's head, earning a pout from the boy. "It won't make too much of a difference."

"Okay…"

"But once you're done eating, I'll need to talk to you, all right? It's important," Lovino removed himself and his plate from the table.

Antonio watched his father disappear into the kitchen and then up the stairs, not at all liking the weight that was settling on his heart. He never was fond of these "talks" he and his daddy had from time to time. It meant something happened or was going to happen. Antonio pushed his plate away. He wasn't very hungry anymore…

A knock at the door caught his attention and his father hurried to answer it, oddly already having his shoes on and jacket on. He didn't like where this was headed at all.

"Glad you could make it on such short notice," his father stepped aside to let the visitor in.

"It was no problem at all, dude—I uh, mean, Mr. Vargas," the boisterous teenager let out a nervous laugh after that, just hearing his father's voice reprimanding him for being so "improper."

"Just call me Lovino," the Italian shut the door before the winter blew itself inside the house.

"All right, sure," Alfred nodded. "So where is the little tyke?"

"Alfred!" Antonio ran up and hugged the teen's leg.

"Hey there!" Alfred picked up the boy and spun him around, Antonio giggling madly. "Man, you've gotten so big since the last time I saw you!"

"Papa says I've grown a few inches! I'll be taller than you someday, Alfie!" Antonio grinned once he was set to his feet again.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, short-stack," Alfred laughed.

"You still talk funny, Alfie," the boy beamed.

Alfred stuck his tongue out playfully at Antonio and the act was returned by the Spanish four-year-old. Lovino then took this time to kneel down in front of his son to be at eye level with him.

"Antonio?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Remember the lady you were talking to on the phone earlier? Well she says I have to go to work now for a few hours."

"But… you said…" Antonio started, feeling his eyes beginning to water. "Y-You said we'd spend the day together… just the t-two of us…"

"I know, Toni, and I'm sorry. You know I don't want to leave any more than you want me to," Lovino placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'll be back before you know it. Alfred here is going to take care of you until I come home."

Antonio shook his head, "No… no, I want _you _to stay here, too!"

"Toni, I can't stay. I would if I could… I just can't," Lovino tried reasoning with his son.

Warm, thick tears raged down Antonio's cheeks and he said the first words that came to his broken heart.

"I hate you! I wish you were never my daddy!"

Antonio raced upstairs and to his bedroom, slamming the door and leaving Alfred and Lovino in perpetual silence. The Italian struggled to stop the pained expression from crossing his features and took a deep breath to bring himself together. Could he not do one thing right by his son? Why did he have to keep messing everything up? It was just mistake after mistake with him! First Marcello and now this. He knew he wasn't cut out for this parent business.

Alfred, being the oblivious person he was, simply watched the staircase as if he expected Antonio to come rushing back down again.

"I should be back before the day is over. I don't imagine the meeting being that long but my boss is a complete bitch. Call me if you have any problems," Lovino didn't even wait for the teenager's response before leaving the house.

The December air nipped at him, brushing his cheeks crimson and icing his battered heart. The breeze made his eyes damp eyes sting with remorse, not able to push out what Antonio had said to him. His son hated him. He had told Feli the day he had found the infant in the tomato garden that this would happen!

He knew he would be right at some point.

He just didn't want it to be this soon.

He should've never told Antonio to leave that dreadful night. None of this would be happening if he had. Antonio deserved so much better than this. Lovino sniffled once, quietly, and left his house entirely, missing the sullen emeralds staring at him from the frosty window.

Antonio watched his father leave, secretly hoping that the man would change his mind and turn around to apologize for once again disappointing him. But that didn't happen. His daddy left anyway! Didn't he care that their entire day was ruined? Didn't he care that he broke his fragile heart?

"He left me…" Antonio mumbled. "He doesn't care…"

The boy buried his face in his tomato pillow, staining it with his tears. He didn't even notice when Alfred had come in and sat down beside him some time later. It could've been an hour or more for all he cared.

"Hey champ. Are you hungry yet? It's almost lunch time," the American teen offered in a calm voice.

So he had been up here for a while.

"No. I'm not hungry," Antonio curled further into himself. "I don't want to do anything today…"

"Hmm, well, if you don't wanna go outside then maybe we can do something fun inside. Let's see… oh!" Alfred snapped his fingers upon remembering. "I've got this really cool book I borrowed from my dad! You wanna see it?"

Antonio sat up, his interest minutely piqued.

"Sit tight. I'll be right back," Alfred hurried down the stairs again, returning in record time with a heavy-looking, dusty, old book.

The boy scooted himself to the edge of the bed beside Alfred, gazing on with curious eyes. Alfred plopped the book in his lap, commenting on how light it was. Antonio begged to differ. It looked like it weighed a ton! What else caught Antonio's eye was that it had intricate circular symbols designed in the leather cover. They could've been letters for all he knew.

"This is my dad's. He's always been interested in magic and fairytales like that so I went down in the basement and borrowed this from him to see if it's all true. Wanna look?" Alfred explained.

"S-Sure…" Antonio nodded hesitantly, catching a peculiar vibe from the book.

Alfred was about to open it but sighed in frustration upon seeing the lock holding the object shut from prying eyes such as the teenager's.

"I need to find a paperclip or something. I'll be back in a jiffy!" Alfred bolted out of the room again.

While waiting, Antonio lifted the book into his lap and ran his tiny hands across the cover, tracing over each of the circles with a finger. There was a quiet _click _and the book suddenly burst open, flying through the hundreds of pages before halting on a particular one.

"Heart's Desire Spell," Antonio read aloud. "Make your dreams come true."

The boy couldn't help but grin. This is just what he needed! Once he did this, everything would be back to normal again! All of the magic and wizards he saw on TV were real! It was almost too good to be true!

"Think of your wish and say this three times," Antonio scanned over the text and followed the instructions given. Time to test how good of a reader he really was. "This simple wish is mine to cast; a magic spell to make it last; I close my eyes a little shiver; this wish for me, now please deliver."

Antonio looked around, searching for any obvious changes.

"Found one!" Alfred grinned but it drooped when he saw the book open in Antonio's lap. "You opened it already? You're good, kid. Is there any cool stuff in here?"

"No. Just fairytales," Antonio hoisted the book off to the side and laid down, his back to Alfred again.

The teenager didn't think it would be the best idea to ask why Antonio was behaving in such a way and merely gathered the book again, heading for the door.

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything," Alfred said, exiting the room moments after.

_I just want everything to be back to normal, _Antonio thought, glowering at the wall with his fiery eyes. _I wish everything to be the way it was._

The boy's eyes soon slipped closed, overcome by sudden exhaustion.

* * *

"How'd he do?" Lovino asked upon entering his home near five in the afternoon, looking absolutely worn out and having been through hell. In a sense, that is what he endured.

"He stayed up in his room most of the day. He came down to eat a little bit of the sandwich I made him and went right back upstairs. He slept a lot. I think he's still sleeping."

"All right. Thanks again, Alfred. How much do I owe you?"

"Don't even worry about it," Alfred grinned. "I didn't mind babysitting."

Lovino nodded slowly, removing his coat and shoes caked in snow.

"Are you okay? You look—"

"Like shit?" Lovino's tone was curt.

"Uh, yeah. Like that," Alfred laughed nervously. "I guess I'll be going. I'll see you at Sienna's party!"

The Italian nodded once, "Don't do anything stupid on your way back. The roads are getting bad. You want me to drive you there?"

"Nah. I'll be fine. You get some rest. You look like you need it, dude. Good night!" Alfred shut the door and the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway and heading down the street soon faded.

Lovino trudged upstairs, stopping outside Antonio's room, contemplating whether or not he should go in. He sighed, opening the bedroom door quietly so as not to disturb his son. The Italian covered Antonio with another blanket, noting how much the boy was shivering.

He leaned over and kissed Antonio's head softly, vanishing from the room like a phantom. Lovino threw himself on his own bed, not understanding where this lethargy erupted from. It didn't make any sense… why was he so tired?

Forest green eyes fluttered shut.

Maybe he would have a clear mind after a night's rest.

* * *

The sun peeking through the curtains is what woke him and not the rambunctious boy he was used to seeing every morning. Lovino immediately sat up once realizing this small abnormality. Glancing at the clock, Lovino rubbed his temples.

10:30.

They had overslept.

Where was Antonio? He was usually up and running around by this time, dragging Lovino all around town—oh. They had an argument last night. That's probably why his son had yet to make an appearance.

"He can't hide out all day," Lovino climbed out of bed and stretched, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his olive eyes. He travelled down the hall, stopping once more outside Antonio's room and knocked. "Toni, it's time to get up."

Silence.

"Antonio," the Italian knocked once again. "Are you up yet?"

The young father was about to enter the room when the sound of singing met his ears. And it was a song he knew all too well being sung by a rich voice he heard so many times.

"_Ven amor_

_Me siento débil cuando estoy sin ti_

_Y me hago fuerte cuando estas aquí_

_Sin ti yo ya no sé que es vivir_

_Mi vida es un túnel sin tu luz_

_Quiero pasar más tiempo junto a ti_

_Recuperar las noches que perdí_

_Vencer el miedo inmenso de morir_

_Y ser eterno junto a ti."_

Lovino carefully rounded the corner to the kitchen and his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. A young man with perfectly tanned skin, chestnut curls of hair and the brightest, most gorgeous emerald eyes Lovino had ever seen in his life was roaming about the kitchen preparing breakfast.

It took a moment for the man to notice Lovino's presence but when he did, his face was lit up with a painfully familiar grin.

"Good morning, _querido!"_

Antonio.

Antonio Carriedo was back.

And Antonio Vargas was nowhere to be found.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all who showed support for the continuation of this story! I am so glad you approve of it! Now be warned: not all is what it seems.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: Language**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Seeing that smile again had the same effect on Lovino as it did the first time he saw it—his breath had been stolen and he had been rendered speechless. His knees threatened to buckle underneath him but he leaned against the wall for support, his eyes blurring with the tears that desperately wanted to spill.

"Lovi? Are you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost!" Antonio laughed. It was such a strong, vivid laugh—nothing like the one when they were younger. This Antonio was no longer sick.

"You…you're alive…" Lovino couldn't help but murmur in disbelief, still not moving towards his supposed dead lover.

"Of course I'm alive!" Antonio grinned but then it diminished. "Did you have another nightmare, _querido? _Are you feeling well?"

"That means… no…" Lovino shot up the stairs, leaving a confused Spaniard in his wake. The Italian skidded in front of the door to his immediate right. His heart pounded in his ears, pleading him to turn back, that he didn't want to see this.

Lovino gripped the doorknob and turned it, ignoring his mind's protests to leave this instant. The door creaked open much too slowly, revealing an unused guest bedroom. Instead of a vibrant red and green, the walls had reverted back to the dull crème. The toys usually strewn about the room were missing along with the toy box they belonged in. The tomato themed bed was replaced by a queen sized bed in the exact same spot.

Any traces that his son existed… had vanished.

A void wedged itself into Lovino's heart again, mourning over a boy who never existed.

"Lovi, what's wrong? Maybe you need to go lie back down," Antonio slowly approached the Italian.

"Where is he?" Lovino spoke lowly and Antonio strained his ears to hear.

"Where's who?" the Spaniard questioned.

"My son!" Lovino grabbed Antonio by his shirt and shoved the taller man against the wall. "My son! Where is my son!"

"Lovi, what're you talking about? You don't have a son," Antonio held his hands up in a placating gesture, catching the fire in Lovino's eyes.

"Of course I do! Why would I make something like that up? I swear if you did anything to him, I will personally put you in the shredder!" the Italian snarled.

"Please calm down, Lovino. You need to listen," Antonio spoke slowly and carefully. "I did not do anything to your son because you don't have a son. It's just us here and has been for years now."

"You're lying…" Lovino backed away from the man. "You're lying!"

"I'm not. I would never lie to you, Lovi. You know that. I'm telling the truth," Antonio placed his hands on the trembling Italian's shoulders. "Maybe you were dreaming. Can you remember anything about the boy?"

"Sure I can!" Lovino grumbled, digging through his mind. He kept digging and digging, searching for the boy's features, age, and personality.

_Clank._

Rock bottom.

Nothing.

There was absolutely nothing! Nothing at all! All of his memories… _gone! _Not a single aspect of his son remained. Everything that had happened in the past 4 years had abruptly vanished. At the Italian's silence, Antonio pulled Lovino into a comforting hug, noticing how obviously upset his little tomato was.

"I thought… I thought… he… he was here…" Lovino spoke through shuddering tones. "I know he was here!"

"It must've been a very real dream, _querido. _I get them all the time," Antonio attempted to lighten the mood with a chipper smile. "Let's not worry too much about it, okay?"

Lovino nodded, burying his face in Antonio's shirt, "But still…!"

"You're so silly, _querido. _Look at me when I say this, Lovi," Antonio kept his smile when his lover looked up at him. "No more worrying about this, all right?"

The Italian was soon lost in the Spaniard's eyes as he had countless times before, immediately forgetting his overwhelming despair. What _had _he been fretting about before? He couldn't recall… was it something important? Probably not. There was this nagging in the back of his mind though. What did it mean?

The Italian felt safe again.

He felt whole.

"Say, after we eat breakfast why don't we go visit your parents? I know they've been dying to see you!" Antonio kissed Lovino's head and the latter blinked in confusion.

Parents? As in plural? As in both?

"My parents? I thought… they're supposed to be dead!"

"Was that another part of your dream?" Antonio chuckled, dismissing the claim. "Rest assured, Lovi, they're alive and healthy as horses!"

This was wrong.

This was all wrong!

His parents—especially his father—would not want to see him! Not after the hell that man put them through in his childhood. Lovino's left hand traced over his right's palm, expecting to feel the irregular patterns of the burn scar. However, smooth, level skin met his touch. The Italian studied his hand.

The scar…

It was gone!

"Lovi? Everything all right?" Antonio poked his head around the corner.

"Yeah…" Lovino answered after pausing. "Everything's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Lovino couldn't help the hint of bitterness leaking into his tone.

"Okay!" Antonio grinned and disappeared back into the kitchen, not at all bothered by it. He called back at Lovino when he heard the Italian trekking up the stairs again. "Are you going to eat breakfast?"

"No," Lovino replied. "I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right, Lovi? You're acting funny."

"I'm just fine and dandy," the Italian shut himself behind the bathroom door. He tore his shirt from his body, expecting to find the scars from childhood tracing his body but the mirror showed flawless tan skin and toned muscles. Lovino's heart began to quicken and a headache advanced upon him when he tried to recall his childhood.

There was hardly anything left—just fragments, images. Nothing really useful. The young man's fingers ghosted over where the scars wounds should be.

His hand.

His ribcage.

His arms.

His chest.

Even though his mind didn't remember, his body subconsciously did.

What was going on?

Everything was too perfect.

Antonio was alive.

There was no traumatizing childhood.

His parents supposedly loved him now.

What was next?

_Just go along with it, Lovino, _he told himself. _This is all some sort of dream and you'll wake up soon enough. Just play along._

Lovino didn't know how long he had been in the bathroom. Minutes, hours… time was lost to him as he struggled to remember the missing pieces of his life. His heart became empty again, desperate to be filled with something—anything. The feeling of emptiness was an old foe and it would've been too soon if he came across it again. Only when Antonio came knocking, questioning him, did his train of thought derailed and crashed. The Italian was hesitant to unlock the door. Why? He didn't know. It was just Antonio.

However, something deep inside told him that this was not the Antonio he was used to seeing.

_Ignore that, _the voice in his head told him. _This is Antonio, the one you've always known and loved. There is no other Antonio to worry about. Forget about it._

Lovino, being driven to the door, opened it, staring at his feet.

"Are you feeling up to visiting your parents today, _querido?" _Antonio placed his hand to Lovino's forehead. "You feel a little feverish."

"For the umpteenth fucking time, I'm fine!" Lovino spat, his cheeks tinted red. "Besides, I… I want to see my parents."

Those words tasted weird on Lovino's tongue but flowed naturally.

"All right, Lovinito. Dress warmly. It's cold out today," Antonio said, kissing Lovino's head before walking away.

Lovino watched Antonio go, contemplating whether he wanted to go o not.

* * *

To say that Lovino was nervous was an understatement.

He was downright terrified.

All the possibilities and the most simplest of questions raced through his head: what would they look like? How would they act? How old were they now? What did they think of him? Would they (and by "they" he means his father) be disappointed him? Would they be proud?

His childhood home loomed over him like a shadow, making him feel small and defenseless just as he always had. He was terrified to step foot in that house again. It was where his happiness was reduced to ashes. It's where his life went up in flames.

Lovino scanned the yard, his eyes drawn to the barren lone tree. The sound of sweet music trickled in his mind as an attempt to jog the Italian's memory of something very important.

What a stupid idea it was to come here.

Antonio took Lovino's numbed hand, warming it with the electric current that shot throughout the Italian's entire body, and smiled. He missed that terribly. He missed everything about the Spaniard. He brought him reassurance, oddly, this Antonio. There was still that hovering reluctance, though. Whether he wanted there or not was a different question entirely.

The couple was at the front door now, Antonio knocking and Lovino trying to control his rising panic. He didn't know what to expect. The art of the possible had never been kind to him.

"Antonio! _Fratello!" _a chipper voice met Lovino's ears and forest green eyes met with golden honey ones. There was a more serious light in those honey eyes and Lovino definitely had to do a double-take.

"Feliciano…?" Lovino studied his younger brother questioningly.

"Of course! Who else would it be? We're so glad you made it safely!" Feliciano pulled his brother in for a quick hug before letting the latter go and chatting with Antonio as they retreated indoors from the cold.

Lovino stepped into the living room slowly, scrutinizing everything, listening to the slightest sound to make sure nothing—or no one—snuck up on him. The living area was just as he vaguely remembered, everything in its corresponding place in his fading memories.

"Mom and Dad will be here in a minute. They went to the store to get some… groceries…" Feliciano noticed his brother was travelling through the house as if he hadn't been here in his entire life. The youngest Italian watched his brother in confusion. What was wrong with him?

"Is he feeling okay?" Feliciano murmured to Antonio.

"He's been acting strange all morning. I don't think he got enough sleep last night. He had a really weird dream," Antonio answered with a small shrug. "I don't want to ask him about it and make him angry."

"It's probably best."

Lovino, not even aware of their conversation, continued on through the house and entered the piano room. The large instrument sat there in all its glory. He moved towards it, his hands running over its polished surface, his fingers playing the ivory keys. He sat down before it, a few more notes dancing through the house. He began playing randomly, stringing notes together and forming a tune.

"I thought I heard music," a woman's voice entered the room.

Antonio and Feliciano turned around and Felisa and Damiano removed their coats before greeting the two. The couple hadn't changed much. They were aging gracefully.

"Should've known he'd go straight back there and start playing," Felisa smiled. "Roderich had more of an influence on that boy than we thought. Has he been practicing a lot lately, Antonio?"

"Almost every day if he can find the time," Antonio replied, staring at the doorway to the other room where Lovino resided. "But he's acting a little strange today so don't be too surprised if he questions you."

"Did he stay up all night writing again?" Damiano sighed from the kitchen. "Felisa, didn't you already talk to him? He needs to be reminded that sleep is important."

"You know how headstrong he is, Damiano. Why don't _you_ talk to him?"

"You're his mother. He hardly listens to me."

Feliciano rolled his eyes with a smile. His parents often had these playful banters. The music from the other room stopped and Lovino rejoined the group in the living room, stopping in his tracks upon seeing the newcomers.

"Hi, Lovino," she hugged him gently.

Lovino paused in returning the gesture but cherished this moment. He didn't believe it to be real. She was here! She was alive! His mother was alive in all her angelic beauty. The Italian struggled to hold back the tears fighting the emotional wall he had built. Felisa heard her son sniffle lightly and questioned him.

"Lovino, sweetie, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the young man said, humiliated at his own weakness.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you think he's a bit old to still be called that, Felisa?" Damiano reentered the room upon finishing putting away the groceries, an impish smirk on his face. "He's 28 years old—a grown man."

"But he's still my first born son so I'll call him whatever I want," Felisa released her son from her hold as Damiano approached.

"How are you doing, son?" Damiano placed his hand on Lovino's shoulder with a gentle half-smile and the latter tensed at his touch. Lovino waited for the grip to tighten around his shoulder. Why? He wasn't sure.

"I-I've been… okay. Just tired," Lovino didn't make eye contact with the eyes that were the same hue as his. He had been petrified of those eyes all his life and to see a softer light and them was a little unnerving.

Damiano nodded, stepping away.

"So Feliciano," Lovino started, uncomfortable with the silence that had settled. "You still talk to that potato-loving bastard?"

"Lovino, watch your mouth," Felisa chastised.

"Ludwig? Yeah, we still talk. He went back to Germany last week. Remember?" Feliciano answered.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I forgot. So are you two, you know, dating?"

"_Dating?"_ Feliciano was genuinely surprised as was everyone else and the younger Italian let out a genuine laugh. "No, never! Ludwig is just a very good friend of mine—there will be never be anything between us other than that."

Lovino quieted at the correction.

He was wrong again.

"Whatever made you think of something like that?" Felisa questioned.

"I don't know," Lovino shrugged.

"You need to sleep more, son," Damiano clapped Lovino on his back, smiling with a concern shine to his eyes. "Taking a break from that book is healthy now and then. Your boss may be a bi—"

"Damiano," Felisa warned at the curse the man was about to let slip.

"Not a very likeable person," the man substituted the foul language, "but she needs to understand that you have a life as well. Just don't work it away, okay?"

"All right," Lovino nodded.

"I swear she's been calling him non-stop!" Antonio said. "She's even frustrating _me!"_

"Yeah. Ten phone calls in the past three days," Lovino commented but then he froze. How did he know that? His boss hadn't called him that many times in such a short period… right?

The conversations he and his boss supposedly shared completely replaced the days where his phone had been silent. The line between this dream and Lovino's reality was blurring together. Soon, there would be nothing left to distinguish the two.

"Enough about that ghastly woman, you two. She'll never change. I'm just glad Lovino came over to spend some time with us," Felisa smiled.

"_Fratello, _would you care to join me for a walk?" Feliciano was slipping on his coat.

"A walk? It's fucking _snowing _outside!" Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"It'll be short, I promise."

Lovino couldn't believe how different his brother had become. This wasn't the Feliciano he knew and loved. His little brother was bubbly, clumsy, and head over heels in love with a certain German who shall not be named. And this… this guy… _wasn't _Feliciano.

_What're you talking about? This is your little brother, _the voice in his head questioned, shoving all doubt from his mind. _He is the only Feliciano Vargas you've ever known._

_That's wrong, _Lovino countered. _That's all wrong!_

_This is your life, Lovino. Don't you remember? Why won't you remember? Why do you choose to forget? Why do you keep putting up a fight?_

_Because it's not real! None of this is real! _Lovino thought, drawing the others' attention with his grave expression.

_In due time, you'll see._

"Feliciano, I don't think that's such a good idea…" Felisa trailed off in worry.

"No, Mom, it's fine. We'll be all right," Lovino followed Feliciano to the door, zipping up his jacket.

"They're grown men, Felisa. They'll be all right," Damiano said.

"Be careful, _querido. _Call me if you need anything," Antonio kissed Lovino's forehead.

The brothers trudged down the sidewalk, the snow crunching loudly beneath their feet in the silence of the neighborhood. Lovino didn't quite know what to say or what to expect. If it was the Feliciano he had grown up with, he would no doubt be interrogating the latter as to why they were walking outside of all times. He didn't know how this new Feliciano would react to his questions. He didn't know if the younger's temper was prevalent rather than buried underneath a blithe smile.

They had walked a fair distance when Lovino decided to take a leap of faith since his "brother" wasn't exactly willing to do it.

"So why did you ask to take a walk with me?"

"Hm? Oh. I wanted to spend some time with you. We hardly ever get to see each other since we're both so busy and Mom and Dad wanted us to visit as well. They've missed us," Feliciano's smile was somber.

"I can't imagine them wanting to. Especially Dad," Lovino grumbled, thinking Feliciano hadn't heard it.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't they want us to come over? They love us," Feliciano's tone had taken a sharp, accusing tone.

Lovino scoffed.

Feliciano's eyes narrowed and he stepped in front of his brother, the latter nearly tripping over the younger's feet. Lovino scowled and his cheeks turned red.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"What's wrong with you? You're acting strange."

"_I'm _acting strange? I beg to differ!"

"You're more edgy, Lovino. And you're asking weird questions like if Ludwig and I were dating. What was that about? You know very well that I would never date Ludwig—not in a million years. Besides, you don't even like the guy so why the sudden concern? You've never shown any interest in our relationship before."

"I have the right to ask, thank you very much. You said we haven't seen each other in a while, right? I'm curious," Lovino retorted, arms folded firmly across his chest.

It had been a while since they hadn't seen each other. They've just been so busy with their jobs—

Wait.

No, Lovino had just seen Feliciano last week. The bubbly, happy-go-lucky Feliciano. That was right, wasn't it? Lovino had paid his brother a visit a week ago to discuss something very important. What was it? The voices were garbled and the images were intensely blurry. Everything was in such disarray inside his head. All of his memories were a colorful distorted mess like a broken stained glass window. It was difficult to find which pieces went where and trying to make sense of it all left him with a slight headache.

Feliciano scrutinized his brother who was again in deep thought. What was wrong with him?

"Lovino," the younger of the two set his hand on Lovino's shoulder and his brother jumped. "Maybe we should head back to the house. It was stupid of me to bring you out here in your condition."

"Condition? You make it sound like I'm sick or insane or something! I'm perfectly fine!"

"Sure you are," Feliciano's words leaked with sarcasm.

A low growl rumbled in Lovino's chest and his eyes became colder than the snow surrounding them. Feliciano was undeterred, however. The older Italian sighed heavily.

"Look, I'm just tired and stressed out, Feli. I'm sorry for acting the way I have been. My boss is a bitch, if you can remember."

"Who can forget? You worried us back there, _fratello. _Take a break every once in a while. It's healthy. Come on; let's head back to the house," Feliciano led the way.

Lovino was about to trail along when he halted dead in his tracks.

Those weren't his words nor were those his thoughts.

What the hell was going on here?


	3. Chapter 3

**Ugh, sorry about the delay. School has been... ya know. Anyway, I apologize for such a long wait with such a short and rather crappy chapter. I was a little stressed while writing this. Just a little. Can ya tell? I hope you enjoy nonetheless and thank you so much for supporting this spin-off. I imagine this story to be short with how fast the plot is progressing. I don't see it being long like Midnight's Hymn but you never know. Hell, I don't even know.**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**Warnings: Language**

**P.S. I will be redoing Midnight's Kiss. So those who follow it and want me to keep it as is, I am sincerely sorry but it just isn't up to par with what I usually write. I know I can do better and I _will _do better. Count on it.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Papa?" a small voice called out into the darkness. "Papa, where are you? I'm scared!"

Silence answered the boy's pleas and he crumpled to his knees, sobbing quietly. He wanted his daddy. It was so cold and lonely here. Where was his daddy? He wanted his daddy! He hid his flushed and weeping face in his tiny hands, weeping for his father to come rescue him. It was so scary here!

"Don't cry, Antonio. There's no reason for you to," a voice floated around him, almost hauntingly.

"W-Who's there?" Antonio sniffled.

In the distance, even though it was dark, he could see a figure ambling towards him. The newcomer was very tall—well, tall compared to him—and had the same shade of skin, same color of eyes, and the same curly brown hair. In fact, this man looked _exactly _like him! There was the flutter of familiarity in his heart as the man grew closer.

"Who are you?" Antonio asked, wiping his tear-stained face.

"My name is of no importance," the man replied, seeming to loom over Antonio. "What matters is what you did, Antonio. You did something terrible."

"T-Terrible?" Antonio trembled at the word and the man's dark, chastising eyes.

"Yes. You wished that Lovino was never your father. And it came true."

"N-No! My daddy would never leave me! That spell was fake! Magic is fake!" Antonio cried out.

"But it obviously _is _real. This…" the man motioned towards the black abyss surrounding them. "This realm that you are in is the world that you once lived in. It no longer exists."

"No! I was at home sleeping and my daddy came home! I remember! I was there!" Antonio shouted in frustration. This man was wrong! He didn't have the slightest clue what he was talking about!

"Forget about your dad, kid. He isn't your father anymore."

"Take me home! I want to go home right now! I want my daddy!" Antonio cried.

"Fine. You'll see in due time, whether you like it or not."

Everything around Antonio slammed into him but there was no pain. Instead, this new weight was carrying him and pulling him to his desired destination. There was no air except he could still breathe. It was nice to an extent. Here, his mind cleared and he forgot everything for a precious split second. For a second, he was back home with his father. They were laughing and smiling. And having fun. They were playing board games and his father would purposely lose just so he could see Antonio's face swell with pride. For a second, they were at the park playing hide-and-seek and his father would hide behind the same tree every time. For a second… they were happy. He savored that second because he knew.

He knew in his heart that those moments were gone.

His breath was then stolen from him and he was thrust into an unfamiliar room. Antonio slowly sat up, his head spinning from his trip. Disoriented he scanned his surroundings, trying to make sense of his blurring vision.

"Papa…?" he muttered. "Where are you…?"

Silence met his ears. Now fully alert, he sat at full attention, ignoring the pounding of his head. He then began to notice some familiarity of this room. The window that looked out into the neighborhood had a great view of the park he and his father always went to. The laughter of children outside never ceased as a snowball war had commenced. He let out a small relieved laugh. That man was wrong! There was nothing different about his home! He had it all wrong! He couldn't wait to see that guy again and rub it in his face!

Antonio then took the time to turn around and he froze completely.

His room.

What had happened?

All of his toys, his bed, his coloring books… they were all gone!

Did his dad change his room while he was sleeping? How did he do it so fast? Antonio shot out of bed and ran down the known hallway of his house and down the stairs. Panting, he studied the living room. Everything was the same here and in the kitchen as well. His heart slowed down a bit and he calmed himself. So maybe it was just his room that was different. No big deal. He could make do with that.

Antonio entered the kitchen, heading for the refrigerator with an ice cold apple juice on his mind. Approaching the refrigerator, Antonio opened, reached for the desired juice box and closed it. His emerald eyes scanned the front of it nonchalantly, expecting to see the drawings he had made for his father at school.

There was just one problem: the front of it was bare save for a grocery list held by a magnet.

No…

No!

His dad had taken down all of his drawings! He had worked so hard on them and his daddy just threw them away! Antonio felt his eyes fill with tears. This was the cruelest lesson his father had ever given him. This was going too far! Antonio then took the time to explore the rest of his house and with each room he entered, he noticed the minute differences that turned out to have a huge impact.

The pictures of him and his father were gone as well. What was going on! Why was his daddy doing this?

"Daddy!" Antonio shouted, his voice breaking. "Daddy! Where are you?"

Silence.

Antonio sprinted out the front door and down the road, the cold air stinging his tear riddled eyes. He had to find his father and apologize. It was the only way everything would be back to normal. He hoped his daddy would forgive him. If he didn't, it just might kill him.

* * *

"Thank you for having us, Mr. and Mrs. Vargas. It was very nice to see you again," Antonio smiled as he and Lovino stood on the front porch.

"It was our pleasure, Antonio. You're such a cutie," Felisa smiled, pinching Antonio's cheeks playfully and earned a cheeky grin in return.

Lovino rolled his eyes but was caught off-guard when his mother pulled into a breathtaking hug.

"Don't be a stranger, okay, Lovino? We're still your parents and we still love and think about you."

"Okay, Mom, okay. Can you let me go now?" Lovino wiggled in her embrace.

Felisa reluctantly let her son go and sighed lightly, placing her hand upon his cheek, "I just miss my little Lovi, that's all. I hate to see you unhappy, dear."

"I'll be fine, Mom. Antonio will see to it."

"Yeah, he'd better," Damiano crossed his arms.

"Don't you worry, Mr. Vargas. I'll take good care of him," Antonio smiled and placed his hand at the small of Lovino's back.

The Italian novelist had to fight off a blush at the notion.

"Get some sleep, Lovino. I want you back to normal next time," Feliciano held a minute smile but the look in his honey eyes spoke volumes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

The couple left then after saying their last farewells. Antonio held Lovino's cold hand in his warm one, a content smile on his face. Lovino decided it wouldn't go any further than simply hand holding and tender kisses to the forehead. It would feel… weird. Hell, it felt weird now doing this. He couldn't pinpoint why, though.

Antonio felt his _querido's _hand tense.

"Lovi, are you all right?" the Italian replied, his breath escaping as small clouds.

"For God's sake, _I'm fine!_ Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that? I'm not sick and I'm not insane! Just fucking stressed!" Lovino shouted, tearing his hand from Antonio's.

He could feel his frustration levels peaking—not at Antonio but at himself. He was so confused. Everything was so messed up in his head. Nothing made sense anymore. He was beginning to remember things from this dream life that never happened in his reality. It was becoming increasingly annoying to try and distinguish the two. He even found himself joining in on his family's conversation, knowing exactly what they were talking about. He would soon catch it and remove himself entirely.

But that wasn't what was truly bothering him, though.

No… what troubled him was bigger than any of these trivial memories. He was missing something—or _someone. _And this someone was important.

His heart felt… empty… barren…

What could possibly be missing?

_Papa!_

What? That voice… Who did it belong to? It sounded so familiar. So painfully familiar… it burrowed deep into his scrambled mind, searching for its rightful place in his memories. It bustled about, desperately seeking but finding no peace.

_Daddy!_

There it was again. Lovino looked over his shoulder. Nothing. Not a kid in sight. He couldn't help but feel that this invisible child was calling out to him.

"I'm sorry, Lovi. I didn't mean to upset you. Please forgive me."

"Just—ugh. Don't apologize. You've got nothing to be sorry for."

Antonio smiled softly at his lover. His little tomato was under so much stress lately. He needed a vacation. A light bulb flickered on in Antonio's head. That's it! They would take a vacation! Where? He didn't know yet. But they were _definitely _getting out of here as soon as possible!

"Lovino! Antonio!" a voice called out, ringing like bells, and was obviously female.

The duo turned around and was approached by Roderich and Elizabeta, the woman smiling brightly while the Austrian caught up to his wife. Elizabeta grabbed Lovino and pulled the latter into a bone crushing hug, grinning strongly.

"E-Elizabeta…! Can't—can't breathe!" Lovino choked out.

"Sorry, Lovino! I've just missed you is all!" Elizabeta then moved on to greet the Spaniard beside him.

Roderich rolled his eyes in a sort of playful manner and shook his head at his wife's rambunctious actions. "It's very nice to see you both again."

"Likewise," Antonio smiled.

"So, Lovi, you still playing the piano? Antonio tells me you're quite the pianist," Elizabeta went to stand beside her husband.

"Yeah, I still play every once in a while."

"What about that book? How is it coming along?" Roderich wondered.

"It's… coming along, I guess. Not much progress, to say the least," Lovino shrugged.

"You're stressed out. It's understandable," Elizabeta's smile was sympathetic.

"Well, Elizabeta and I were just on our way to get something to eat. Would you care to join us or have you already eaten breakfast?" Roderich said.

"We've already eaten, thanks. Wait, Lovi, you haven't eaten yet. Are you hungry?" Antonio looked at the Italian.

"No. I'm fine."

"You haven't eaten all morning."

"I'm not hungry," Lovino's words were sown together with annoyance.

"It seems we'll be catching you two later. It was nice seeing you again!" Antonio and Lovino were once again on their way through the frigid air of December.

* * *

He had to keep going.

He had to keep running.

He had to find his father! There was no other choice!

Antonio stopped upon reaching the park, his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. Sweat beaded down the side of his face and he didn't bother to wipe it away. His eyes grew wide with panic. It was empty! The park was completely empty! Not a single soul had visited all day if the blanket of pure white snow was anything to go by. Antonio shakily continued walking, hoping to find someone—_anyone._

"Papa!" he cupped his hands around his mouth and his call carried across the silence. "Daddy!"

His ears rang with silence.

The boy crumpled to his knees, wishing to be buried underneath the very snow that covered the area. His daddy had left him… his daddy left! He was gone forever and it was all his fault!

"I'm sorry, Papa…" Antonio sobbed. "I'm s-so sorry…!"

The clear pearls of regret glistened in the winter sun and fell into his frozen hands. Antonio's tiny frame shook terribly as he buried his hands in his hair, muttering a song in a broken tune that had been sung as a means of calming him for as long as he could remember:

"_Io sono qui,dai non piangere._

_Stringiti a_ _me pi__ù__ che puoi. _

_Io ti proteggerò non temere,non piangere sono quà."_

It didn't have its usual remedy but it did help slightly. He had to keep it together. He had to be strong.

_But I'm only four… how can I be strong? I want my daddy…_

"Little boy, are you okay? Are you hurt?" a large hand was placed on his shoulder and Antonio whipped his head around to meet eyes that were as bright a green as his. That man! It was the man from his dream! What in the world was he doing here?

Antonio's eyes widened upon seeing the person accompanying the stranger. His daddy! His daddy was here! He had found his father!

"Daddy!" Antonio shot to his feet and hugged Lovino's leg tightly. Antonio sniffled, struggling to hold back his forsaken tears. "I—I found you, Papa! I knew you didn't leave me!"

Lovino stood there, frozen to the spot, a confused look dancing in his eyes and on his handsome features.

Daddy?

Why…? Why was this kid calling him "dad"?

"Lovi," the Spaniard beside him pointed to the child, "do you know him?"

_What a stupid question to ask, _Antonio thought. _Of course he—_

"No," came the dreaded reply. "No, I don't know him."

Antonio's head snapped up to meet forest green orbs that were staring down at him. The eyes that were usually so full of love and kindness were now filled with the dim light of bewilderment and even a bit of wariness. Tears continued to overflow and stained Antonio's rosy cheeks.

"Daddy, it's me. Remember? I-I'm your son!"

Lovino's heart skipped a beat.

Son?

Son…

He had… a son.

Yes.

That's right!

He had a son!

Four years old.

Birthday: February 12th.

Name… his son's name was—

"Sorry kid, but you must have him mistaken for someone else. Lovino doesn't have a son. Isn't that right, Lovi?" the green-eyed man Antonio was beginning to strongly dislike said.

"That's… right," Lovino replied slowly.

Everything was becoming fuzzy again.

"I don't. I don't have a son."

"But Papa… it's me! Please don't do this to me, Papa! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I said I hated you! I didn't mean it! I was just angry! Just please don't leave me, Daddy! I'll be good from now on!" Antonio wept almost uncontrollably at this point.

He couldn't lose his dad! His dad meant the absolute world to him and he had put that in jeopardy when he uttered those disgraceful words of hatred. He loved his dad!

Catching the disbelieving look from the man he called father, Antonio continued to plead.

"Daddy, it's me, Antonio! Please don't leave me!"

Lovino raised an eyebrow.

Antonio?

This boy was named Antonio, too?

"You need to find your parents and go home. I'm sure they're worried sick about you. You'll catch cold if you stay out here too long," the Spanish man said, taking Lovino's hand and walking off.

The child's grip melted away and he stood there, thunderstruck, as the wind whipped about him.

As they left, while his father didn't even spare a passing glance, the boy felt a piece of him die.

Snow drifted down from the grey sky above and Antonio collapsed with them, content with lying on the ground and waiting for their end. It was then that Antonio fell into total numbness, into the dark that caressed him gently like his dad used to when he was a baby. It sang him sweet lullabies and brought him memories. And those were the memories he held so very dear to his battered and broken heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter was a pain. Tugged at my heart strings and hopefully it'll have the same effect on you. I can't say though XD Well, school's been as unrelenting as ever so I'm quite proud at how this chapter turned out considering the fact that I have a project that was assigned Thursday and is due Monday. I hate my history teacher. Anywho, It's 12:30 AM my time, it's been raining all day and I'm hungry. So I'm going to engorge myself in foods that I don't need to eat but will be eaten anyway.**

**Thank you so much to those following and reviewing this story! It means so much! You guys are the very reason why I push myself to write on some days! Please don't give up on me!**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Warnings: None.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Antonio sat there at the end of the dock, kicking his legs back and forth over the freezing water. He had been crying for what seemed like hours and he no longer had any tears. They were swimming in this large body of water before him, melting with the sky's tears and possibly the tears of others who came here to mourn. Staring at his reflection, he imagined his father was sitting there beside him, smiling gently at him. Cheeks flushed with cold, a small one played at the boy's lips but it quickly vanished.

His dad had left him…

His daddy… didn't want him anymore.

He no longer mattered.

He was no longer loved.

Staring at his reflection rippling on the surface of the lake, Antonio studied his features with a dull stare.

Chestnut curly hair.

Lightly tanned skin.

Bright emerald eyes.

Thinking back to his father, he immediately spotted the differences.

Dark brown hair.

Olive complexion.

Forest green eyes.

They were so different from one another. Could they really be father and son with such differences wedging between them? He could've gotten such characteristics from his mother, sure. But he had never met or seen his mother before. There weren't any pictures of her anywhere in his house. Did he even have a mom? His dad had never mentioned her, to tell the truth. Every time Antonio asked, his daddy would just change the subject to something completely irrelevant and turn Antonio's train of thought onto a different track.

However, Antonio did notice there was such a sad look in his father's eyes when it happened to be brought up. Never had he seen such a sorrowful gaze in the forest eyes that were specked with amber.

_Something terrible must've happened to her, _Antonio reasoned. _That's why he doesn't want to tell me. He doesn't want me to be sad, too._

The boy suddenly had another thought: who was that man with his dad? He sure didn't look too happy to see Antonio at all. In fact, the guy seemed rather annoyed with him. Antonio had never even got the chance to know him! Why did he already hate him?

"_You'll see in due time, whether you like it or not."_

What did that guy mean? What was he supposed to see?

"He's not Marcello," Antonio said aloud, shuddering at the mention of that murderer's name. "And I've never seen him before—only in my dream… at least I don't think I have. Maybe he's a friend of Daddy's…"

Wait—that's it! He _is _one of his dad's friends! Antonio had seen him in a picture before!

What was his name again? It started with an A…

"Antonio!" the boy beamed, getting to his feet. "His name is Antonio just like me! Daddy said I was named after his friend that died! But wait… if his friend died then how is he here?"

"Papa might know!" Antonio brightened at the thought of his dad. He then grew somber. "What if he doesn't want to see me? He said he didn't know who I was…"

Antonio felt his eyes brim with tears and streams of distress pooled over his cheeks.

"D-Daddy…"

* * *

Lovino was silent the entire way home, staring at nothing but the sidewalk they walked on. The Spaniard holding his hand stole glances over his shoulder, concern shining through his eyes. Antonio sighed. Maybe he had come off too harsh when talking to that kid back there. It _was _just a kid after all…

"Lovi?"

"What?" Lovino's tone cut through the conversation with a razor's edge.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"I'm fucking cold, okay? It's snowing out here. I'm _freezing!" _Lovino grumbled.

"We're almost home, Lovinito. I'm sorry," Antonio smiled sympathetically. "We shouldn't have walked."

"Just… whatever."

Antonio stopped in his tracks and Lovino sent him a questioning stare.

"There's something else that troubling you, _querido. _Why won't you tell me? Please?"

The Italian sighed, "It's that little boy. He seemed… so upset. He was so convinced that I was his dad. And then… I thought about the kid in my dream and everything fit for just a split second. But it slipped. I couldn't remember anymore. He was so sad…"

"You're upset," Antonio said.

"What?"

Antonio wiped away the unknown tears with lightly calloused thumbs. "You're crying."

Lovino's fingers ghosted across his tear dampened cheek. He was crying? Why? Why was he crying? He had nothing to be upset over, right?

…right?

Lovino couldn't help his mind travelling back to the little boy from before. He looked so distraught, so desperate. He pled to Lovino. He clung to his leg, begging him to remember something that never happened. Those bright emerald eyes so full of tears… he had seen those somewhere before. But where? Where would he have seen such eyes?

"_Please don't leave me!"_

His heart became heavy with grief as the child's voice echoed in his muddled mind.

"_Daddy, it's me. Remember? I-I'm your son!"_

Son…

Such a foreign word…

Such a foreign… _beautiful _word.

A sharp pain shot through Lovino's head, leaving him staggering and falling into Antonio's waiting embrace. The stab intensified, digging deeper into his mind, killing everything about the boy he had just met. The area around him began to spin as his agony worsened, centering at his memory and splintering outward in a breathtaking migraine.

Everything hurt.

His head.

His soul.

His heart…

"Lovi? Are you all right? What's wrong?" Antonio questioned.

Why? Why was he hurting? He didn't understand so the Italian remained silent. It felt as if something was drilling deep into his heart, into the very regret he had for leaving the child behind in such weather. That poor, poor boy… who were his parents? Why would they leave him behind?

_Don't forget, _someone whispered in his head. _You mustn't forget!_

_What am I supposed to remember? _Lovino asked it.

_Your son! You can't forget your son!_

_A son? _Lovino repeated it. _I have a son?_

_**No. You don't have a son. It's just been you and Antonio all this time. No one else.**_

Lovino clutched at his head. Who was right? Who was wrong? Did he have a son or not? How was he supposed to tell? Who was he supposed to believe? Should he believe either of them?

"Lovi? _Querido, _what's wrong?" Antonio wondered. He wished for nothing more than his tomato to be okay. The pained expression on the Italian's face was too much for him to bear. He had been told the process was a painful one—to tear one's memory apart was no easy feat. But he never expected it to be of this magnitude. Antonio watched Lovino's internal battle commence, unable to do or say anything that would take away this agony.

_Stop lying to him!_

_**What reason do I have to lie? I am telling the truth. He doesn't have a son—not anymore.**_

_Give him back to me, you bastard! Where is he! _Lovino demanded.

_**Like I said: you don't have a son. He caused you nothing but pain and I took that pain away. Besides, he didn't want you as your dad anymore, remember? Remember how much it hurt when he said it? Do you want to go through that again? I brought you happiness, Lovino. Here, you are safe. Here, you have everything you could ever want: your parents, an outstanding career, the perfect little brother and most importantly, Antonio. What more could you ask for? What more could you want? Aren't you happy here?**_

_Happy… _the word echoed in Lovino's cluttered, broken mind. _I… am happy._

_**That's right. Sever all bonds with that ungrateful boy and stay here where you will be happy for all eternity. Give me your soul and you will know peace.**_

Like the snow on the ground and glistening from the barren trees, Lovino felt his heart grow cold and the distress he had for the upset child dissolved into nothing. He slipped into unconsciousness and fell limp in Antonio's arms, overcome by such an emotional casualty. A few lamenting tears strayed from Lovino's now closed eyes and Antonio quickly eliminated them.

He now hoped that the boy had been done away with. His _querido _didn't need to be in anymore pain. He had endured too much and it was high time for some light trickle into Lovino's murky world. He had to make sure that boy stayed away from Lovino at all costs until the Italian was back on his feet again. Antonio loved Lovino too much to cause the latter more grief. And it was all because of some kid who didn't cherish the love his father had given him. Well, Antonio wasn't going to let Lovino's heart continue being dragged through the dirt.

It was time that kid experienced just as much pain as his lover had tenfold.

Antonio carried the Italian tenderly in his arms, leaving a feathery kiss on his head to will the pain away.

"Don't worry, Lovi. He won't hurt you anymore. I promise. When you wake up, there will be no pain. You won't be sick anymore."

He was answered by Lovino's reassuring silence and replenishing slumber.

* * *

The wind began picking up speed in the dead of night, carrying snow with pebbles of hail and Antonio shivered violently. It pounded against his thin frame, this snow and hail, and the boy hurried to seek shelter. His first thought was to return home but he pushed that from his mind. He couldn't go back there. That man would just throw him out and keep his dad away.

And his dad may tell him to go, too. His father didn't even recognize him.

Trudging through the unrelenting winds, Antonio knew he had to find shelter otherwise he'd freeze to death overnight. The flimsy sweater wasn't doing much for him. On top of that, he was getting hungry. He had to find food somewhere and every store in town was closed. Digging through trashcans wasn't exactly a first choice.

With the streetlamps guiding him, he ran up to the first house he saw, ignoring the familiar air about it. He shuddered at the front door, knocking but soon realized that no one was home. Compelled to find another way in and not caring about being thought a thief, Antonio went around the back, scanning for any way to get inside. The boy tried the first window he saw within reach and the next, growling in frustration when it was locked.

Antonio tried one final window before he would move on. He pushed up against it and to the greatest relief, it easily slid open to and warmth welcomed him in its embrace. The child climbed through the window and landed clumsily inside the house, shutting it noiselessly to hush the howling wind.

He swiftly turned on his heel, expecting to see the owners of the house glaring him down. He was only met with an empty living room illuminated by a single lamp. The room sang familiarity to him. He felt as if he'd been in this house before. It was so odd.

Antonio removed his soaked shoes and placed them by the front door. Since he invaded this home, the least he could do is not leave a mess. The four year old set himself on the couch and reveled in its warmth, immediately falling into a deep slumber.

* * *

Emilio and Adelita Carriedo returned home after a day out in the town, ready to call it a night. Emilio allowed his wife to step inside first, following suit shortly after. Adelita slipped out of her coat, preparing to hang it up in the closet but froze completely at the sight before her.

"What is it?" Emilio wondered, coming to stand beside his wife.

"It's a little boy…" she trailed off, unable to say anything more while watching the child sleep peacefully.

"A little boy?" Emilio raised an eyebrow at the boy.

Adelita knelt beside Antonio, brushing back the Spanish child's damp curls of hair. Antonio stirred, revealing bleary emerald eyes full of exhaustion. Adelita smiled kindly to disarm the boy and Antonio immediately sat up, his eyes darting between the man and woman.

"I-I'm sorry for coming in. It was just so cold outside and—and a window was open and—"

"Shh, it's okay," Adelita stroked the Antonio's cheek gently. "No need to explain. You are more than welcome to stay the night. Are you hungry?"

Antonio nodded furiously.

The woman kept her gentle smile, "Let's first get you out of these clothes and give you a bath. You're soaking wet. Emilio, would you be a dear and get the bath started for him while I find some suitable clothes for him to wear?"

"Sure," Emilio held his hand out to the child.

Antonio hesitantly took it and allowed the man to lead him up the stairs to the bathroom. Upon arriving, Emilio immediately turned on the tap and while the tub filled, he grabbed towels for Antonio. The four year old sat beside the porcelain tub, watching the bubbles gather on the surface of the water.

"Call us if you need anything," Emilio smiled and left the bathroom.

Antonio undressed himself and stepped into the warm water, grinning as it sent a pleasant feeling throughout his freezing body. The bubbles tickled his nose and he giggled. These people were so nice. They didn't even mind he had entered their home without their permission. He struck lucky. Other people wouldn't have been so nice and caring.

Antonio was soon bathed and dressed and downstairs in the kitchen, feeling much better than he had before. Adelita was kind enough to wash his clothes that were covered in mud. His shoulder was picking through the collar of the shirt that draped over him like a gown and he immediately fixed it while Adelita made him some tomato soup.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Carriedo," Antonio smiled, remembering his manners.

"You're very welcome, Antonio," Adelita poured the steaming soup into a bowl and placed it on the table in front of the child. "Sorry it's not anything luxurious."

"Lu-lux-luxurious?" Antonio prattled over the complicated word. "What does that mean?"

"It basically means really fancy or nice," Adelita laughed lightly.

"Oh okay," Antonio nodded in understanding and began wolfing down the soup, almost burning his throat in the process.

"Whoa, slow down there, kid. You'll get a stomachache," Emilio mussed Antonio's head of thick curls with a grin.

Antonio matched it and finished his soup, handing his bowl to Adelita who offered to give him some more.

"So Antonio," Emilio began, watching the boy eat to his heart's content. "Why were you outside all by yourself? Where are your parents?"

Antonio's shoulders slumped and his expression grew somber.

"Are you an orphan…?" Adelita treaded carefully over her words.

"N-No…" Antonio shook his head, feeling his eyes well with tears. "M-My daddy and I had a fight and…"

"And…?"

Antonio sniffled and hiccupped in his broken tone, "He doesn't want me a-anymore. He doesn't want as h-his son…"

Adelita pulled the boy into her lap and stroked his head gently, rocking back and forth to soothe him. Antonio clung to her, strangely feeling safe with this woman. Only one word came to mind at this point: mother. She was holding and comforting him as if he was her own child. And if he didn't know any better, he would say they were related. They shared more of a resemblance than he and his father did.

He soon heard her singing a lullaby in a voice that rang like the bells of heaven above.

"_Come little child,_

_I'll take thee away,_

_Into a land of enchantment."_

Antonio's eyes grew heavy as he listened to the song of her beating heart and the words of the gentle lullaby rocking him to sleep.

"_Come little child,_

_The time's come to play,_

_Here in my garden_

_Of shadows."_

The boy felt light and his eyes grew heavier by the second. The tune hummed inside his head and sleep almost had him in its clutches.

"_Follow sweet child;_

_I'll show thee the way;_

_Through all the pain and_

_The sorrows;_

_Weep not poor child,_

_For life is this way,_

_Murdering beauty and_

_Passions."_

Antonio's jade orbs slipped closed and in that moment, he was back at home and his father was holding him lovingly in his strong arms, protecting from anything and everything. Here, he knew he was safe. Here, everything was perfect for the boy of only four.

Emerald and sapphire met in a gaze that darkened upon hearing the boy snoring softly. Smirks soon replaced the tender smiles that graced their faces. With a guileless boy such as Antonio, getting rid of him would be a challenge worth laughing at.

But for now, it was time to play with the kid's heart strings.

And cut them entirely.

* * *

The early morning sunlight illuminated the hidden flecks of amber within olive eyes that flittered open with the birds' merry tune for those still lying in bed. The owner of such eyes sat up and slid out of bed with ease, moving out of the room and down the stairs with a lighter step in his stride. He combed a hand through his matted brunette hair and poured himself a glass of orange juice upon arriving in the kitchen.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist, fitting perfectly and pulling him close.

"Good morning, Lovi," the Spaniard whispered in his ear affectionately. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," Lovino calmly took a small sip of his juice. "Sorry about that little episode yesterday. I wasn't myself, if you didn't notice."

"Yeah, you gave us quite the scare. You kept rambling on about the little boy the entire way home. Do you know who I'm talking about?" Antonio said.

Lovino turned to face Antonio entirely and raised eyebrow in question, "What little boy?"

"The one who claimed to be your son."

"What're you talking about, Antonio? I don't have a son. Are you feeling okay?

Antonio smiled, "I'm feeling much better, Lovi."


	5. Chapter 5

**Phew. Man, I am so sorry for the wait. Thank you so much for being patient and I am doing my best to get this story going on scheduled updates. Though with school and basketball season starting up, I'm not sure how that will work out but know that I am doing my best. Again, thank you so much for all of your continued support on this story and even the series in general! It means so much to me!**

**Happy reading~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNINGS: Darkness, violence, language, etc.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Feliciano knew there was something wrong when he woke up that morning. There was something missing, that much was certain. It nagged at him the entire day he bustled about the house preparing for Sienna's sixth birthday party. Ludwig and Sienna could only watch idly in confusion as Feliciano continued making said preparations, wondering what could be bothering the Italian so horribly that he had shut them out completely.

He was now in the kitchen, spreading the princess themed cloth on the table's smooth, oak surface and placed plates and paper cups in front of each respective seat. He wasn't even aware of the inquisitive ocean eyes peering through golden bangs watching his every move, analyzing him, taking note of every flinch in his expression and flicker in honey orbs.

"Feliciano?" Ludwig placed his hand on his lover's shoulder.

The shorter of the two nearly jumped out of his skin and let out a startled yelp, fumbling with the plates in his trembling hands. Ludwig pulled his hand back from mild shock and raised an eyebrow at the latter but his eyes echoed concern.

"Are you all right, Feliciano?" the German asked.

"Y-Yeah, I'm…" Feliciano trailed off, sighing heavily and rubbing his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're on edge today…"

"Yes. I'm fine," Feliciano's tone came out razor sharp, although unintentionally and rather effectively caught the blue-eyed man's attention. "I'm sorry; I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"You sleep twice a day, Feliciano. I know you. What's bothering you?"

The Italian sighed, tearing through his thoughts to find the source of his troubles, "It's Lovino. I'm worried about him. He hasn't called or anything! And today is Sienna's party. She'll be crushed if they don't show up."

"They probably were caught up in something. You know Antonio has been having trouble sleeping at night—you know, with nightmares and all," Ludwig reasoned.

"But he would've called, Ludwig. He always calls if something comes up at home. This isn't like him… I'm so worried. What if something happened? What if someone broke in again? What if _he _got out and—" Feliciano went into immediate panic mode, fretting about the well-being of his brother and nephew.

Ludwig pulled his lover into his strong embrace, "Feliciano, I'm sure everything's fine. We'll head over there to check on them, okay?"

Feliciano nodded into Ludwig's shoulder, attempting to compose himself. Sienna could only watch from afar, holding tightly onto the stuffed bear she named Charlie in her small arms. She scratched the top of his head, removing a speck of dirt from his chestnut fur, and kissed it. She didn't make friends with many kids in the neighborhood so she felt Charlie was the only other person outside her family who truly understood her. He always listened and never judged. Sienna continued listening to her parents' conversation with Charlie in her arms. Despite not knowing what her parents were talking about, just from the tones of their voices, she knew something was wrong.

She sat on the floor in the living room with Charlie facing her in her lap, "I wonder what's going on, Charlie. Mama's acting funny and even Daddy doesn't know what's wrong with him. Maybe it's because Uncle Lovi and Toni haven't come over yet. What do you think?"

The bear stared at her silently with beady black eyes and sewn smile.

"Yeah, I think that's what happened. Mama's just worried, that's all. Maybe we should go over to Uncle Lovi's house to make sure everything's okay. If we did that then Mama wouldn't be so scared anymore!" Sienna popped her tiny fist in her hand at her wonderful idea.

A knock at the door then drew her attention and the little girl stumbled along to answer it as her parents didn't seem to notice. She opened the door slightly and peeked through the small crack before tearing it open completely and jumping into the arms of the guests.

"Mister Arthur! Alfie! You came!" she hugged the teenager excitedly.

"Of course we did! We wouldn't miss your party for the world!" Alfred laughed, hugging and swinging Sienna around in a circle.

"Are your parents' home, Sienna?" Arthur asked.

"Yup, they sure are!" the girl was already on her feet again and took the two English speaking men by their hands, dragging them inside her home and out of the cold. "I think they're in the kitchen. Follow me!"

"Sienna, who was at the door?" Ludwig questioned.

"Mister Arthur—I mean, Mr. Kirkland and Alfred! They're here for my birthday party!" she beamed and it turned sheepish under the slight reprimanding gaze her father was giving her for opening the door without one of them present (for safety reasons and everything Sienna didn't bother to listen to at times).

"_Ciao, _you two! You're here early!" Feliciano grinned as he approached the duo. "It's so nice of you to come all the way from your country to attend Sienna's party."

"Like Alfred said, we wouldn't miss it for the world and we were seeing if there were any last minute preparations that we could help out with," Arthur smiled, shaking both Feliciano's and Ludwig's hands in greeting.

"That's very nice of you but everything is almost done. I've got it under control," Feliciano said as Ludwig finished setting up the kitchen for the party.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Here's your present, kiddo!" Alfred held out the box wrapped in beautiful purple paper spotted with white polka dots and a flamingo pink bow neatly adorned it as a final touch.

"Wow! Mama, Daddy, can I open it? Huh? Can I? Please?" Sienna bounded on the balls of her feet, clutching the gift with vigor.

"No, not yet, sweetie. We have to wait until everyone else gets here so we can sing Happy Birthday to you!" Feliciano mussed the girl's bright head of hair.

"Okay…" she handed it to Feliciano in slight defeat but then immediately perked up and took Alfred's hand in hers. "Alfie! You wanna come exploring with me until Toni and Uncle Lovi get here? It'll be tons of fun!"

"Kiddo, I, uh—" Alfred was cut off.

"No, Sienna, I'm afraid he can't. He's already in enough trouble today as it is," Arthur said.

"Huh?" the girl blinked. "What for?"

"Dad, I didn't mean to lose your book. I honestly didn't! It just disappeared like I told you before! I had it and then it was gone!" Alfred snapped his fingers. "Just like that! Poof!"

"Right, because books can just get up of their own accord and walk away."

"Well, with all the crap you mess with, I wouldn't be surprised if they ever did…" Alfred grumbled.

"Watch it," Arthur warned with scalding emerald eyes.

Ludwig, being the creature he was, was going to let the situation go as it was none of his business. However, Feliciano had other plans.

"Book? What book?" the Italian wondered, his eyes bright with curiosity.

Alfred explained, "Some kind of spell book that I found in Dad's basement. He truly believes in all of that fairies and magic stuff like that."

"And yet you believe in aliens," Arthur scoffed, rolling his gem-like eyes. "Alfred, I've told you countless times to stay out of the basement so this is no longer up for discussion."

"Magic? Wow!" Sienna's expression practically lit up the room.

"What kind of book is it? Maybe we can help you find it!" Feliciano beamed at the prospect of an adventure even as small as this one.

"I've pretty much turned the entire house upside down and haven't found it yet. Now I'm grounded until we _do _find it," Alfred crossed his arms with an agitated huff.

Arthur was about to end the conversation then and there but Feliciano kept repeatedly asking about the book, rambling aimlessly now that his interest was piqued. The Englishman sighed in defeat, reluctantly figuring out how to answer the question(s) knowing that neither would stop pestering him about it until he did. Both Sienna and Feliciano listened with grins stretching from ear to ear, honey and oceanic orbs sparkling.

"This book said to have originated from the mid to late 7th century—perhaps even earlier than that. It is full of unique spells, some of which no one has ever dared to try. I've never even opened it nor have I figured out how to. Despite it being very old, its leather cover still looks new and has five circular patters with symbols in their centers."

"What do those symbols mean?" Feliciano and Sienna were seated on the couch adjacent to Arthur, leaning forward, hanging on every word like children gathered around at story time.

Ludwig sat silently beside them, and to one who was not paying attention, it seemed as if he was lost to the world and blatantly ignoring those around him. However, he was just as engrossed as his lover and child were if not more. Alfred, on the other hand, sat sulking next to his father, grumbling something about "stupid magic" and "disappearing books."

"I haven't a clue as to what they say. If I remember correctly, it's Old English and that language is considered extinct," Arthur replied.

"What kind of magic does this book do?" the girl wondered, sitting in her mother's lap.

"A very…" Arthur fought to corral his words but thought it best not to beat around it too much. "It makes horrible magic that could be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands—like the hands of a child. That's why I've never bothered to open it. I have no desire to see what's inside."

"Then why not destroy it? Or sell it?" Ludwig suggested.

"Don't you think I've tried? Nothing works. No one wants it no matter how much it could truly be worth," Arthur was tilting towards the frustrated end.

"And you can't find it? Odd. Where was it last seen?" Ludwig continued.

"I had it at Lovino's house when I was babysitting Antonio because Lovino had to leave for work," it was now Alfred who piped up. "I showed little Toni the book but he didn't seem very interested. When I saw the lock on the book, I went to find a paperclip so I could try and get it open but when I came back the book was already open. I think Antonio opened it."

"Then it could still be there. You haven't gone back to their house, have you?" the German asked.

"No, but I _know _that I put the book in my bag before I left. I promise I did!" Alfred said. Why didn't they understand? He had stuffed the stupid thing back in his bag as soon as Antonio was done with it and ignored him for the rest of the day. He remembered it very clearly!

"Ve~ it wouldn't hurt to go back and check, now would it?" Feliciano grinned.

"Not in the slightest," Arthur agreed. "But what about Sienna's party?"

"The guests won't show up for another two hours or so. I was just getting everything ready. It shouldn't take us that long. I say we go! Plus, I'm really worried for my _fratello _and nephew. I haven't heard from them in a few days…" Feliciano trailed off.

"Can I go, too, Mama? Can I?" Sienna tugged at the Italian's sleeve and then at her father's with pleading electric blue eyes. "Daddy? Can I go? Please?"

"I don't think it's such a good idea. I'm not even comfortable with Feliciano going," Ludwig placed his hand atop his daughter's head of strawberry-blonde hair. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"I'll be fine, Ludwig. Besides, I think Sienna will feel safer with you here. Remember the last time I was home alone with her?" Feliciano offered a feigned smile at the blurry but very vivid memory. How could one ever forget such a tragedy?

"That's exactly why I'm not comfortable with you going without me. I don't want it to happen again," said the German who was all but begging his lover to stay.

"Feliciano," Arthur started. "It's just a book. I'm sure we can handle looking for it ourselves."

"True, but with more than two people looking, it'll go much quicker!" the Italian was determined. "And I really need to see for myself if Lovino and Antonio are okay. It's nothing against you two. I just… need to make sure that they're all right."

"Then we'd better get going so we can make it back before the party starts," Arthur stood, fixating his coat on his shoulders. "Alfred, come along."

"I'll be right back, I promise," Feliciano placed a tender kiss on Ludwig's cheek and one on Sienna's head. "Lovino and Antonio will be with us, too."

Catching a sliver of hope shine from the small smile Sienna gave him made Feliciano's heart swell. Even though his stomach was tied in a large knot, he allowed his own grin to grace his delicate features, fighting past his building anxiety. Like his blonde lover, Feliciano wasn't receiving a pleasant vibe in the least.

"Be careful," Ludwig said.

"Always," Feliciano followed the two English-speaking men out the door and to their vehicle.

* * *

It was odd, really, how foreboding Lovino's house felt at that moment when they pulled into the driveway. The way the grey clouds hung over the residence like a shadow, constantly watching over it, congregating into one large body… The trio climbed out of the vehicle, all hesitant to approach the house. Arthur scanned it with calculating eyes, making a grunt in acknowledgement of the note he mental note he made—almost a scoff of sorts.

"M-Maybe we should go b-back," Alfred stuttered, not enjoying the chill running from the crown of his head to his heels. The teen shuddered underneath his coat and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, assuming such chills originated from the weather.

"It already knows we're here," the Englishman stepped up the porch and to the front door, quickly followed by Feliciano and a frightened teenager.

Arthur placed his palm flush against the door, his eyes narrowing after a moment, commenting, "It's strong. Stronger than I ever thought it would be…"

"What is it? What're you talking about?" Feliciano questioned.

The door's hinges let out a low shriek as it opened slowly, revealing a dark living room and the house let out a low rumble. A frigid burst of air smashed into them, freezing them to the core, and Alfred crouched (hid) behind his much shorter father, who gazed into the home rather fearlessly.

"You'll see," Arthur entered the home. "Be careful and don't wander. Stay close. We have to find Lovino and Antonio and get the hell out of here."

"What about the b-book, Dad?" Alfred wondered.

"Forget about the book. It's no longer here. We've got bigger problems to worry about that I'd rather not deal with at the moment."

"How do you know it's not here?" Feliciano whispered.

"I could never forget such a presence that the book has after experiencing it. It's… overwhelming to say the least. Now come on. We don't have much time."

"A presence? What kind of presence?" Alfred couldn't help but ask.

"You'll see in due time."

The trio cautiously went in, their shoes crunching over the thin layer of ice coating the floors. Alfred slammed something into something what felt like a brick wall, shuddering and his breath coming out in short puffs of smoke. This feeling… he had never experienced anything like it before. He felt so small, as if he was a child again. All he wanted to do was run out of there like a dog with its tail between its legs. A cowardly but justified action.

Arthur felt along the walls for any sort of light switch, immediately turning it on once finding one. White light washed into the room, revealing its frozen condition.

"What happened here…?" Feliciano asked aloud.

"No time for questions, Feliciano. We need to get done with this as soon as possible," Arthur stood in the middle of the living room. "Where's Lovino's or Antonio's room?"

"Just up the stairs. Follow me," Feliciano nearly slipped by going up the steps too fast. He quickly regained his footing and dashed to the room on his immediate right, turning the handle that was iced in place. The door opened easily to the sight of Antonio lying in bed, pale and petrified but sleeping peacefully.

"Antonio!" Feliciano rushed over to the boy, wanting to shake him awake.

"Don't touch him!" Arthur shouted from the doorway. "Do not wake him so carelessly. In his current state, the shock could be fatal."

"Then how are we supposed to get him out of here?" Feliciano questioned bitterly.

"Just be gentle. We need to find Lovino. Come on," Arthur was already heading down the hall to check the other rooms.

Feliciano carefully lifted the pallid child into his arms and the latter did not stir in the slightest, falling limp like a rag doll. The Italian stroked Antonio's frigid cheek and over the tear stains that so carefully flowed along it. So many tears had been shed… the proof of a broken heart.

"He's freezing…" the Italian remarked.

"I'll take him," Alfred was now without his jacket and held out his arms so Feliciano could delicately place the Spanish boy there as if he were made of the finest porcelain. The teenager proceeded to wrap Antonio in his thick, leather coat to offer the least bit of warmth. They then hurried along to catch up to Arthur who was currently standing in front of Lovino's closed door.

"What's g-going on? Let's go i-inside," Feliciano's teeth chattered.

"It won't let me in," Arthur sighed in exasperation.

"What won't let you in, Dad?" Arthur shuddered. "What this thing you keep talking about?"

"I never thought I'd have to use this again," Arthur placed his palm against the door, ignoring Alfred's question for the time being.

"Use what? Dad, you're not making any sense!" Alfred panicked.

"I don't have to make sense. Now, in the best interest of you both, I suggest you get back."

The Italian and British-American teenager did as told and watched Arthur in the darkness of the hall. A bright, glowing pink circle surrounding a star that was outlined with intricate but unknown symbols surrounded Arthur's feet and grew brighter as merely seconds went by. Feliciano and Alfred shielded their eyes as the light grew in intensity, enveloped the Englishman and channeled to the palm of his hand and to the door where it faded.

Suddenly, and without much warning on Arthur's part, the door flew open and another burst of icy air greeted them ferociously. Inside, the only light to illuminate the figure lying motionless was from the lamp sitting alone on the nightstand.

Lovino looked exactly like Antonio, if not worse. With pastel skin and fixated what looked to be a peaceful yet pained expression, Lovino remained a statue as all signs of him being a living, breathing human were done away with. Arthur made way for Feliciano who stormed inside and sat beside his frozen brother.

"_Fratello? Fratello, _please wake up! _Per favore…" _honey eyes brimmed and burned with tears threatening to flood.

"Feliciano, we don't have time for this. We have to go. Right now!" Arthur demanded, scaring the Italian into shifting his brother precariously onto his back. Feliciano struggled in regaining his balance as Lovino was nothing but dead weight on his back. His brother was always the strongest out of them both.

There was a loud roar as the entire house shook, causing furniture to topple and lights to burst. Within the darkness, another howl resounded, one of anger and animosity, sounding animalistic. Alfred held Antonio closer to his chest, shielding the unconscious boy from harm.

"Dad, what's going on?!" the teenager cried out.

"Follow me! We have to get out of here!" Arthur guided the two to the front door and out of the house with seconds to spare. Black mist molded into a hand reached out for them from the inside, narrowly missing Feliciano, before retreating back.

_GRR…!_

Such a growl boomed like a ferocious animal ready to pounce its prey. A pair of glowing crimson eyes glowered at them, cursing them for taking what was rightfully his. A monstrous form made of the same black mist peered out its head and roared viciously, its eyes burning with hatred, damning them. It was nothing compared to the snarls from moments before. What they were listening to was the screech of a demon that had not been able to trap the unfortunate souls it craved.

They scurried to the car, piling in and driving away just as the mist drew back and Lovino's house crumpled to nothing but a mass of wood and glass. Hearts thundered and breathing erratic, the group struggled to calm themselves as their ears rang with the deafening roars.

"What… the hell. _Was that?!"_ Feliciano yelled, surprising only Alfred with such terror and ferocity in the usually bubbly Italian's voice. "What the hell just happened back there!? Care to explain!?"

Arthur kept his eyes transfixed on the road ahead of them, not daring to look back lest that black and ghastly mist was following them. Upon not receiving an answer, a frustrated Feliciano made sure the two unconscious passengers were seated comfortably in the backseat, moving carefully and precisely as to not startle them to death… literally. Alfred sat shivering and isolated from the others next to Lovino with Antonio still secure in his arms. He held onto the child, eyes wide with fear. This had to be some sort of—of—trick! There was no way that this could possibly be happening! Magic didn't exist yet he had seen it with those beautiful sky blue eyes!

"Feliciano, call Ludwig and tell him we're on our way back, please," Arthur said, desperate to control his quivering tone, his voice breaking more than once.

"But you still haven't—!"

"Mr. Vargas, I'm asking nicely. I will explain everything back at your house," Arthur was firm in his demand but his hands and eyes said otherwise. The Englishman's knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel and his emerald orbs were the very epitome of fear. "Please. Call him and tell him to get a fire started. These two need to be warmed up and quickly."

Feliciano pulled out his phone after a few agonizing seconds and dialed Ludwig's number.

So much for Sienna's party…


End file.
